


Special Delivery

by CasHasThePhoneBox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Clueless Castiel, Gen, He's Off His Meds, Holy Fire, Humor, Idjits, Inappropriate Humor, No More Porn For You Castiel, Poor Innocent Civilian, Sam Winchester to the Rescue, Season/Series 06, That's Inappropriate, The Pizza Man, There's A Time And A Place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 18:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3299048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasHasThePhoneBox/pseuds/CasHasThePhoneBox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel finally meets his hero and role model.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> *This work mentions pornography and sexual fetishes.

“… And he says, ‘I learned that from the pizza man!’”

Castiel allows the three hunters to laugh at his expense, investing his consciousness in the process of a deep inhalation and exhalation. His vessel does not require this, but he has found that the process is… comforting. Really, he shouldn’t be here at all; he should be in Heaven pleading his cause, or seeking the way to Purgatory. He finds himself weary as never before, however, and these moments with the Winchesters provide a moment of respite, however, strange.

Bobby knocks back a shot of dark brown liquor. “I hope these boys set you straight on that,” he says, glancing at Castiel.

“Yes,” Castiel confirms indulgently. “Dean explained to me the significance of spanking in that context.”

“Good,” says Bobby definitively, “because I sure as Hell ain’t gonna. Buncha idjits, feedin’ your angel porn.”

“I don’t eat,” Castiel reminds them for the three hundred and seventeenth time. He knows, however, that Bobby is not truly angry. He can see the gruff smile partially hidden behind the man’s facial hair.

“Good. More pizza for me,” says Dean, leaning back and resting his feet on a stack of thick books. “Speaking of which, it’s been like an hour. How long is it gonna take ‘em to get here? I’m hungry!”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, we ain’t exactly in the center of town, here,” drawls Bobby. “If we’d done hamburger gravy like I planned, we’d have eaten half an hour ago.”

Sam pretends to gag. “Hamburger gravy is _gross._ ”

“You sound like a twelve-year-old girl,” taunts Dean.

This sparks an argument about the mysterious hamburger gravy, adolescent females, dietary choices, and, for some reason, Sam’s hair, which Castiel gives up on understanding. He sits in silence, listening to them bicker, until he senses a being approaching. He half-rises, on alert, but it’s only a human. A thudding sound emanates from the exterior wall of the house.

“Probably the pizza man,” says Dean. “Cas, would you go get that?”

Castiel feels his eyes widen. He doesn’t particularly want to.

“Please? I’m, uh, a little busy here.” Dean breaks out one of his infectious grins.

He _does_ look busy. He’s got his brother in a headlock and is doing something to his hair.

Wondering how it is he went from retrieving souls from Hell to retrieving pizzas, Castiel flies to the door and steels himself. How bad can it be, anyhow? He simply has to be firm and clear.

The man on the doorstep looks nothing like the pizza man in the movie. He’s shorter and skinnier, and younger, and he has red spots on his face, but he’s also wearing a hat and carrying a large flat package, both of which read “Popper’s Pizza,” so Castiel assumes Dean is correct.

“Hello,” he greets the man. “Please don’t attempt to slap my rear.”

The young man appears nonplussed. Castiel thinks perhaps he should explain.

“I have recently been informed that spanking is not an appropriate punishment for adults. In fact, I am told that it has sexual connotations and is considered somewhat perverted, and therefore should not be performed unless both parties consent. Please consider this my official lack of consent.”

Now the young man looks a little bit frightened. People only usually look at Castiel that way if Grace is leaking from his vessel, or if…

“Oh, no. Are my wings showing?” he asks the man.

The man makes a strangled sort of sound.

Castiel examines him more closely. “Are you injured? Is an evil spirit of some kind troubling you?”

“I am so, so, so sorry about that,” says Sam, hurrying to the door behind Castiel and firmly removing him from the pizza man’s line of sight. “He’s off his meds. We moved not too long ago, and the pharmacy hasn’t confirmed the prescription yet…”

“…Uh-huh…” says the pizza man, sounding dazed.

“Here, here’s some extra for you trouble,” says Sam. He hands the pizza man a wad of cash. “Again, so sorry. My brother was supposed to be watching him. Yeah, thanks. Have a nice day.”

The pizza man leaves Sam with the flat package, gets into his car, and drives away with impressive alacrity. Sam turns to look at Castiel with an exasperated glare.

“Cas,” he begins. “Wait, you know what? No. This one’s on Dean.”

He shouts for his brother. Shortly thereafter, Castiel finds himself trapped in a ring of Holy fire. There, he is treated to a three-hour lecture on the actual function of pizza delivery men outside pornographic videos and on times and places when it is considered socially inappropriate to mention sexual fetishes.


End file.
